snowflakes
by gote
Summary: Like snowflakes, each of their stories are unique. /a collection of next gen Christmas drabbles.
1. JamesII

Written for the 'Oh Christmas Tree' challenge on The NextGen Fanatics forum. A collection of Christmas themed drabbles, inspired by the given pairings and prompts. Reviews are appreciated.

_number: one  
>character: James II<br>pairing: gingerbread_

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><p>He's smiling as he holds up the freshly baked gingerbread man, glancing from it to the girl in front of him and back again. He laughs, loud and clear, and she looks up from the book she's reading and raises an eyebrow questioningly.<p>

"It's you," he explains, holding the gingerbread man up and making it dance back and forth in the air.

She rolls her eyes but puts down the book. "This'll be good," she says. "Do explain." She pauses to give him a warning look. "And if you say it's because my legs are that wide I won't hesitate to tip this mug of cocoa right over your head."

"Is it hot?" he asks.

"Extremely," she replies.

He grins. "I'll come up with another reason then."

She throws a wad of tinsel at him but he merely snatches it from the air with his Quidditch honed reflexes and reaches up and ties it around his head, warrior style.

She tries not to laugh. "You're ridiculous," she says, turning her head away from him in an attempt at keeping her tone stern and to her smile.

James slips off the bench stool he's been sitting on and sinks down onto her armchair, half next to her, half on her, and slips an arm around her waist, resting his head onto her shoulder. He looks up at her, eyes glinting teasingly. "You love it."

She flicks him on the nose. "No," she corrects. "I love you."

He sits up straight and winks. "I'm a package deal, sweetheart," he says. He's smiling though, before he leans down and kisses her softly.

Involuntarily, she smiles against his lips before squirming and pulling away, scrunching up her nose. "Back on topic, you," she says, holding a finger out warningly. "Why am I a piece of sweetened biscuit?"

He waves the gingerbread man in front of her mouth, grinning teasingly. "Lips as sweet as icing, paired with your hair; it needs no explanation." He runs his hands through said hair and flicks it forwards, so it falls over her face like a red curtain. "Ginger."

Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. She grabs his hand and pulls it towards her mouth, biting the head of the gingerbread man right off as if to show him.

James feigns shock at her action and she grins triumphantly at him.

"I liked him better than you," he says, pouting dramatically.

She smiles. "Shut up, you," she says. He ignores her and opens his mouth. She rolls her eyes but feeds the remaining gingerbread directly into his mouth, before leaning back and snuggling into his chest.

James happily chews the gingerbread, pulling his girl close to him.

He's always loved Christmas.


	2. ScorpiusRoxanne

_Thanks so much for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter. :3 I can't believe how long this has taken me, especially seeing as I've had this typed up since I uploaded the last one. ;) That's how you know when you're busy. Haha. ~now only ten more days to catch up. ;D_

_number: two  
>pairing: RoxanneScorpius<br>prompt: chimney smoke_

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><p>Roxanne's staring at the ground and her face is emotionless but Scorpius knows her, dammit, and he knows she's unhappy and he knows that he can't bear to see her like this.<p>

He sits down beside her and he murmurs, "I'll tell you a story that'll make you smile." He's not looking at her and she's not looking at him but she's listening and he's talking and he needs her to understand. "Of a time and place where we don't have to hide. The smell of pine needles and chimney smoke in a cabin in the mountains with a fireplace that we'd sit in front of, roasting marshmallows and laughing the nights away; just the two of us."

She looks at him, mouth twisting in a pained smile. "That's just a fantasy," she says, and her eyes are solemn and it's not how this is supposed to be. "It could never be like that."

"Run away with me," he says. It's sudden, spur of the moment. But it's been a year since he realised he'd drop everything to go anywhere with her.

Roxanne shakes her head, turning now to look at him, her dark eyes wide and her tone desperate. "Christmas is a time for family," she says.

"I'll be your family." He's as sure and certain as anyone can be.

She shakes her head sadly. "You can't be everything, Scorpius," she says as she runs her hand through his blond hair, eyes sad as they're fixed on his. "As hard as you may try."

He looks away. "Nothing's impossible."

He can hear the hopeful smile in her voice as she says, "Including meeting my family?"

Those simple words, though, they strike fear into his heart and stir his stomach but it's conflicting with his burning desire to give her everything she'd ever need, to do anything she ever wants.

"Impossible might not be the word," he says. "Resulting in my certain death is probably more accurate, but-"

She cuts him off, finishing his sentence for him. "It's more of a phrase?"

He smiles, despite it all. "Exactly."

"Just think," she says, "if you do die, you won't have to put up with Christmas carols or taste my cooking."

He's grinning now, and she's grinning back. "There's always a silver lining."

"Be brave for me, Scorpius," she says, squeezing his hand. "It's all I want this year."

He's really considering it, as he pauses. He says though, "I suppose it's cheaper than buying a puppy," and she laughs and hugs him tight, because she knows it's his version of a yes, and he thinks, even if he is murdered, at least she'll have gotten her wish.


	3. LouisHugo

I was hoping a Christmas drabble collection could cheer me off my angst kick, but apparently not. ;) Also, I don't usually read or write cousincest, so this is my first attempt here. Eurgk. . So, consider this my obligatory warning, even though there isn't much to warn against, and please enjoy! :)

_number: three  
>pairing: LouisHugo<br>prompt: icicles_

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><p>Louis's eyes are the colour of icicles and just as cold as he stands in his doorway, hand grasping the edge of the door, ready to close it Hugo's face and separate the two of them once again.<p>

"I thought I made it clear," he says, and it's only because Hugo knows him so well that he can see the pain hiding behind the expressionless face and the cool tone. "That I never wanted to see you again."

Hugo shuffles his feet in the snow and ducks his head, hiding from the harshness in the familiar voice. But he's not going to chicken out. Not again. He pulls off his knitted hat, causing brown curls to spill out from underneath and he wrings it in his hands as his stomach twists with nerves. He looks up through curly eyelashes and his voice is soft and small as he says, "But it's Christmas," and even manages a hopeful smile.

Louis's eyes survey him; adorable and lost on his doorstep, looking up at him with pleading eyes and appearing overall like a puppy with its tail between its legs. Something tugs at his chest and he's closing his eyes as a hoard of memories rush unbidden to the surface. His eyes fly open as he's jolted back to reality by sheer force of will and he's saying, lying. "I don't care."

"You never did," says Hugo in a quiet voice that breaks Louis's heart all over again.

Louis opens his mouth, reading to object, convince. He cares. Of course, he does. He always cared, and wasn't that just the problem?

Louis adopts a polite yet distant, formal, tone and says, "It was very nice of you to visit me, _cousin_," because it's not fair that he's the only one to feel guilty.

Hugo flinches back like he's been slapped. "Don't," he says in a voice full of hurt.

"Why not?" asks Louis, and he knows he's being cruel, but he can't bring himself to stop talking as a year's worth of pain and anger comes rushing to the surface and there's no way to bring a stop to the onslaught of feelings and of words. "You made it very clear what we are to each other. All I've done is learnt my lesson."

Hugo looks like he's about to cry. He's the younger of the two, but he turned out to be the most sensible, didn't he? Louis hates that he was right all along. They could never be together.

"I'm trying to apologise, Louis." His voice is full of honest sincerity and Louis hates it.

It's too long since Louis's heard his name from those lips. It hits him like an electric shock, yet still he knows he must stay strong. "Ahh," he says, with a cruel smile he almost doesn't mean playing at his lips, "but haven't we already established that you did the right thing?"

Hugo looks at the ground. "Not by you."

It pulls at his heart strings and the temptation to forgive, move on, is like a physical force but wasn't that what he'd already done? Moved on? He wasn't getting into this again. He wasn't. He never wanted to hurt like that again. With a sad shake of his head he says, "Have a merry Christmas, Hugo."

The door begins to close, but Hugo lunges forward and grabs it, stopping it. He stands now, mere inches from Louis and the two of them freeze, staring at each other, hearts pounding rapidly.

"I can't without you," Hugo answers, voice raw with honesty.

If there's ever been a moment when Louis has wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab someone in his arms, pull them close to him and hug them tight, this is it, but he's stubborn, too stubborn, and he's been scared off from giving in, from letting in, and he still hurts a little too much to trust again. "I thought I couldn't do many things without you," he says instead, his voice a mere whisper. "Turns out I was wrong." And he closes the door and bolts it shut and feels all over again what it is to regret.

Merry Christmas, indeed.


	4. LysanderVictoire

_number: four_  
><em>pairing: lysandervictoire<em>  
><em>prompt: mistletoe<em>

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><p>She wears a sprig of mistletoe in her hair like anyone who kisses her will be stuck with her forever and smiles like they should be thankful for it. Lysander thinks she's like a spider spinning a web to trap whoever comes too near, but it's not like spiders usually have such entrancing beauty at their advantage, so Lysander keeps his distance because he's not equipped to deal with a specimen like this.<p>

They're at the Christmas get-together at the Burrow and there are so many different creatures to observe, yet the direction of Lysander's binoculars keep slipping away from the gnomes and the nargles towards the girl with the golden hair and the dazzling smile.

"What do you want for Christmas, Ly?"

Lysander jumps at the voice of his twin brother, not realising he'd approached. He pulls the binoculars away from his eyes, feeling suddenly guilty. "A new pair of binoculars," he says, sadly, hitting them once as if that'd make them look in the direction he wants. "I think these ones are broken."


End file.
